


Falling Stars

by Nymaria



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Season/Series 11, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Beta Sam Winchester, Depression, Fallen Angel Castiel, Friendship, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Omega Castiel, Post-Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5412254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymaria/pseuds/Nymaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas falls, however his human self is neither alpha nor beta, as they expected, but omega. Somehow they all must learn to cope with the new dynamics.</p><p>  <em>There is Cas, shaking in his arms at night,  sobbing again and again, "I am not an omega. I'm not! I can't be! Dean, I can't!"<br/>Dean is close to crying himself and he can't even say anything to comfort him, because the only thing going through his head is, 'You're perfect.' </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Stars

Cas falls on a Thursday. 

Or decides to anyway, because there isn't much falling going on yet. 

The guy is just standing there, eyes closed, with this serene, blank expression of his, arms spread out in some weird zen-pose. It isn't a particularly beautiful day, just cloudy with the occasional ray of sunlight sneaking through. The wind is harsh, ripping through their clothes with biting cold and at least there is no snow to worry about, not yet.

Dean shivers and pulls the jacket tighter to himself, a quick glance at Sammy confirms that his brother struggles similarly with the cold. At least he isn't the only one freezing his balls off, because Cas certainly isn't, even with his flimsy clothes.  
They've stood here, on this field behind the bunker, for nearly three ridiculous hours and Cas still hasn't moved a muscle. Don't get him wrong, he _gets_ it, dude has to be ready for this.  
Dean shuffles with his feet, trying to keep his toes warm or at least from dying and hopes it won't take much longer. 

Not that he or Sam would leave if it took days. Cas shouldn't have to wake up and take his first breath as a human alone. So to hell with a little comfort, they are toughing it out.  
Anyway, his alpha self would never allow him to abandon one of his own to flee from a little cold. 

Sure, he understands why Cas is going through with this, and he's a little relieved and glad that his, _their_ friend has decided to stick around, even if the circumstances sort of forced him to. After everything they've gone through it feels like Cas belongs with them, is part of their little, dysfunctional family and Dean hates the thought of letting anyone in his family go. 

Too many gone already. 

There isn't much to look at out here and as he stares at the ground and the yellow, pale grass, his thoughts inadvertently begin to wander.  
The last year was hard on them, all that stuff with the mark and becoming a demon. And Charlie. 

God, _Charlie_.

And the Darkness, Amara... 

God's sister is gone from this world now, but the emptiness and devastation she left in her wake are still present and won't be wiped away easily.  
It's probably their job to help with the clean-up, they're _the Winchesters_ after all. Nowadays their name is a symbol in the supernatural world, an inspiration for hunters and a nightmare for everything evil. This mythos kind of began with Lucifer's captivity and evolved over time and the countless monsters they'd taken on, killing Death himself was kind of high on the list as well and the whole thing with Amara just strengthened their reputation. 

Dean knows it's shitty, but they didn't really help much and mostly just hunkered down in the bunker until the worst was over. Honestly, they were both just too tired and a heck of a lot guilty to deal with the aftermath, considering the role they played in the release of the Darkness in the first place. They needed some time and space to collect themselves, power back up. Even their resident angel was so exhausted, he didn't even flap off and just stayed with them for a while. 

Eventually Cas brought up the fact that he cannot return to heaven, not after everything he'd done. It's not really surprising, they've known for a long time that it might come to this. He is a fully formed angel once again, not that that matters, since the other angels have irrevocably cast him out. For them he is a traitor to their species, consorting with humans and putting their lives before his angelic brethren.

There was never a question of whether he would be welcome in the bunker. Of course he is, it is his home as much as theirs. Dean has helped him pick out the room and decorate it, while Sam has set up the TV and his laptop. The netflix account was Sam's bright idea, though he regrets it now, considering how difficult it is to get Cas out of his room, when he's binge watching some new series. 

So this outcome is kind of inevitable, when the angels declare that they will distance themselves from humanity once more and lock the gates to heaven for some odd, not yet decided on, number of years.  
Cas cannot stay on earth as an angel, would be automatically banished to heaven in fact, when the gates close, there really is only one natural choice: Cas would have to suck it up and fall. 

And of course they want him to stay, Sam was more quiet in expressing his enthusiasm, while Dean was admittedly loud and quite adamant that the bunker will always be Cas' home.

So ultimately Cas decides it's time to fall and that's what brings them to the bunker's backyard on this crappy autumn day. 

Suddenly Cas face contorts into a grimace and a little wheeze escapes his mouth, then from one second to another he is on the ground, muscles seizing, his limbs begin to kick out violently, fingers clawing at the dirt, pulling out grashalms and roots left and right. 

The shock lasts for only an instant, then Dean is scrambling forward to his friend's side, Sam right behind him. In the moment it takes them to reach him, Cas' body is shuddering in uncontrolled convulsions and froth spews from his mouth. Dean tries everything he can think of to calm him down from murmuring his name to holding his hands down, nothing works, Cas doesn't react to anything. Meanwhile Sam runs back inside to look for some obscure Men-of-Letters-potion he's apparently found and Dean doesn't even care as long as it helps. 

Cas eyes shoot open and his mouth releases a silent scream, body writhing in Dean's tight grip until it slackens once more and his eyes shut. The image of the angel is devastating in its pathetic humanity and something indefinable screams in Dean's chest. In this moment he prays to god and whoever might hear him to just save Cas, whatever the price. For now he just holds Cas to himself, feeling wretched and absolutely useless. 

Later Sam returns with a greenish concoction that is supposed to bring some major pain relief, more than any pills they have anyway. They make Cas swallow and then carefully carry him inside and to his bed, the angel doesn't regain consciousness during the process, head lolling lifelessly around and it stabs at Dean to see him so diminished. Sometime on the way the angel clutches deliriously at Dean's hand and he squeezes back in reassurance. 

It was Cas choice and he chose humanity, but Dean isn't stupid and he knows that if it wasn't for him and Sam to some extend, Cas would never have taken this path. He would still be one of heaven's obedient soldiers, following orders without a thought spared to those little, unimportant, human lives and their fates. Ignorant, but safe. Perhaps not truly happy, but content with his lot and at peace. 

Dean has spent too long as a hunter not to value those feelings. Happiness is great, yet always fleeting. 

He's robbed Cas from an eternal, peaceful existence and thrown him in the brutal chaos of human emotion, which ultimately led to this.  
In some twisted way the agony he experiences now, is Dean's fault. 

Of course they knew that ripping one's grace out must hurt, but he'd seriously underestimated the sheer pain and agony that can be read in Cas little twitches and whimpers. Sam appears with a damp cloth, a pitcher of water and a clinical thermometer at the other side of the bed and starts to dap at Cas forehead. With a start Dean realises that Cas is sweating all over and the skin is uncomfortably hot, burning in his hand. 

A fever then. 

He wants to hit himself, why didn't he realise sooner? Sam's quick thinking is the only good thing in this situation. That's when Dean notices the paleness of his brother's face and that his hands are shaking a little. Their eyes meet over the prone body of their friend and there is something in Sam's eyes that scares him. 

"He's too hot Dean", Sam says in a whisper, panic underlying his every word.

The dread is building in his belly, because he notices how Sam avoids showing him the thermometer, and he wants to scream and hit something as hard as he can, yet he shoves it all down, refuses to acknowledge the creeping fear.

"It's alright, we'll cool him down. I-...I- there's ice in the fridge. Good old fashioned ice-bath will do the trick. Or if it's real bad, we'll take him to a hospital. It's gonna be alright, man. It gotta be."

"Dean", his brother starts, voice breaking, "it's - the hospital is too far away, you know that. And, he's too hot. His temperature is off the scales.... this is- god, it's really bad, Dean."

No. 

No. No. No. Just no. Cas is not dying because of his stupid choice to become human. This is so stupid, there aren't words for how stupid this is. Not this. Not even a monster. There is no way. 

"Stop - stop talking. He's gonna make it. Nothing more to say."

Thankfully Sam understands and they just continue their efforts in silence. Cas doesn't die through the night, nor the next. The situation doesn't really change throughout two days, though he remains somewhat stable. They endlessly debate taking him to a hospital, the problem is, it could be some angelic condition and he also may not survive the drive in his fragile state. 

On the third sleepless day Dean notices how the smell of sickness recedes slightly, isn't quite so thick anymore. He mentions it to Sam, but his brother just gets this unbearable, gentle look like he is grasping at straws and Dean stops saying anything after that. As an alpha he has a much more pronounced sense of smell, not that Sammy with his weak beta-nose would understand. 

Sometimes there is a rare sweetness in the stale air and it lingers in Dean's mind as he tries to define it. Whatever it is, it's not unpleasant, only confusing. He catches himself searching for its source and tries to stop, because for god's sake he has more important things - Cas - to worry about, yet without success.

It's the fifth night, when everything changes. Sam and Dean take shifts to watch over Cas, although more often than not Dean lingers far beyond his time and has to be dragged out to get some sleep. His brother has gone tiredly to bed and Dean is already settled on a chair with a magazine at hand, when the smell of sickness abruptly transforms into a sharp, ripe sweetness.

One breath and Dean's hairs stand on ends and goosebumps spread, a second and saliva floods his mouth, a third and his heartbeat doubles, pulse quickening, while his eyes dilate. 

This - fuck.

Fuck. 

Fuck no. No, no, no, no, no. Couldn't be. No way. 

Cas eyelids flutter and a moan escapes his lips. 

Dean closes his eyes in response, he wants to hammer his head against the wall until it bleeds. Fuck this shit (and no, there will be _no_ fucking going on). This is bad. So bad. Phenomenally bad. 

His breath rattles in his chest and he cannot stop himself from inhaling. That's when Cas snaps awake in a confused blur, moaning and desperately writhing on the damp sheets. 

He should wake Sam. Or at least leave the room. Baby-steps. 

"Dean", comes Cas breathless murmur, mouth slack and eyes glassy. A hand feebly grasps for Dean and it takes enormous willpower not to let it succeed. Rapid breathing fills the room and he has to concentrate, focus damn it, or he may do something unforgivable. 

"It hurts Dean, why does it hurt? I can't, I want it to stop. Please. Make it stop?"

The words grate on Dean, deep inside there is something in him that wanted to pounce the first time the smell hit him. But he didn't.  
Fuck, Cas is an omega. And apparently in heat as well.  
Filthy images run through his mind, can't stop himself from picturing it, what he would do. Cas wouldn't resist. He'd do everything he wants, because that's in his nature now. He could have this, if he wanted. Just has to take it. And Dean is on the brink, where it all doesn't sound quite so horrible. 

Cas chose him, humanity over heaven. He could make it work.  
Maybe. 

But he is not prepared to lose his best friend on a maybe and it's beside the point, because he is not a savage beast, he won't take Cas like one. For god's sake the guy doesn't even know what he's babbling. Cas doesn't know what this means, doesn't know that moaning Dean's name is not okay. 

"It's alright. Shhhh, calm down, bab- Cas. I've got you, okay?"

Cas cries out, flailing, hand falling to his trousers and he can see how the fabric is darker in some places, stained. The image alone let's his hands tremble. His eyes are glued to the spot, another violent shiver wracks through Cas body and the patch of wetness grows. 

For a moment he forgets himself, where he is, who he is, because nothing of it matters. His eyes bore into the heaving man on the bed in front of him and there are only two truths in his world, that he is an alpha and this is an omega and they belong together. 

His primal instincts are going haywire, it's like he is in a trance, urging him to _taste and bite and claim_. He wants to take this body in a ritual of violence and blood, break it apart, mark it so deep that it would be impossible to deny his claim. The throbbing in his veins, the dull thump of his heartbeat, accelerates as he envisions burying his nose into the hollow of the omega's throat, inhaling the unique scent of sweat, sinking into its inviting heat, the salty tang of blood in his mouth... he licks his lips in anticipation. 

He is frantic with need, there should be no second of hesitation left, yet something stops him from rushing it.  
Like this isn't just a body to use. Part of him is aware that this is something unexpected, something _more_. 

The thought is gone, lost in the whirlwind in his mind, before he can do more than acknowledge it. 

He absentmindedly divests himself of his shirt and jeans, strips down to bare skin and chucks his shoes negligently into a corner. Stepping forward he spares one last glance at the omega's face, his senses imprinting the image into his mind, the slight curl to its hair, the chapped lips and its nicely formed cheekbones, before flipping it over on its stomach. He quickly rips the shirt from its back, because he needs skin contact, craves the feel of heated flesh under his palms and the choked little cries the omega lets out at his touch. 

Carelessly, his hands wander over to the enticing wetness of the jeans, signifying that his omega is ready to be breached, to be mated.  
His fingertips ghost over the rough fabric of the seam and the omega whimpers in need. 

"Dean, what-" The voice is deep with a familiar rumble to it that abruptly brings him back to his senses, like a bucket of ice-water is dumped over his head. 

His hand is frozen on Cas butt in a twisted version of a caress, still feeling the wet fabric clinging to his friend. 

God, he's so wet.

He pulls the hand away like it is burned, and tries to clear his head from the fog.

"I'm gonna get Sam", he barks out through gritted teeth, because he really needs Sam here, like right now, "He's going to help you, just stay here for a second. "

He doesn't know why he bothers, not like Cas can understand anyway. It takes everything in him to grab his clothes, walk to the door and open it, ignoring the desperate mess of omega on the bed. He only takes the time to put on his jeans and shirt before he rushes down the hall to Sam's room. 

A light knock is all that is needed for Sam to awake and storm outside with his gun drawn and ready to fight an army of monsters. If only it were monsters, Dean thinks in resignation. 

"What is it Dean?" Sam asks sharply, noting his brother's hard breathing, eyes still on the lookout for a threat.

"Yeah, remember how we thought Cas might be an alpha? Or beta? Well, we were wrong. He presented just now. He's in heat", says Dean with a brittle smile and watches his brother's face go pale. 

Sam let's his gun arm drop in disbelief.  
"Oh", he says, still in stock. His eyes flicker over Dean, noticing his brother's rumpled clothes and lack of shoes, "Oh! This- how? Uhm, but you didn't -?", he adds softly, familiar brown eyes gentle and worried with a hint of dread to their depths. 

"No I- No. But I wanted to", he admits, voice shaking as he thinks back to how close he was. Almost. How is this possible? 

"Yeah, you probably shouldn't go near him for a while, okay?" Sam nods to himself, but despite the reassuring tone Sam's hands have a slight tremble to them, like he too feels overwhelmed. "I'm a beta, I'll take care of him", he adds absentmindedly and the alpha inside Dean wants to growl and tear his eyes out, because nobody is allowed to take care of his omega. He's the provider, not Sam. 

As if sensing his thought process Sam tells him to get some much needed groceries and Dean's inner beast is placated by that role. Finding a store open for 24 hours won't be so hard, and he is relieved to be given a task to distract himself. 

He's about to leave, when he sees how Sam tenses his muscles, then the scent is upon him, fresh and potent. Indescribable and yet, as he smells it, oddly the taste of lightning on his tongue comes to mind mixed with the cloying sweetness of honey. Fuck, did he close the door?  
The last rational thought abandons him, Dean is taking deep, hungry breaths and starts walking back down the hall, before his consciousness quite catches up with him. Then suddenly there is Sam in front of him, like a human wall with arms spread to the side, effectively obstructing the way. A harsh, uncontrolled growl makes its way out of Dean's throat.

"Dean, focus! This is Cas, alright? Calm down! " And there is something in Sam's tone, the fear perhaps, that makes Dean pause and gives him the chance to clear his head.

"What - ?" he asks helplessly, eyes automatically fixed in the direction of Cas room. Violently shaking his head, he looks at his brother and can only see sympathy in his face.  
"Have to g-go", he mumbles, feeling high and strung out. And ashamed. 

On his way out, just after taking some boots with him and grabbing the keys to his baby, Sam appears with a list of the things they need written in an orderly, clean script. Normally Dean wouldn't let that go without merciless teasing first, but he isn't in the mood today, too busy keeping a leash on himself, and just wordlessly accepts the paper. 

"Don't forget to pick up some suppressants, okay? " Sam reminds him softly, eyes searching for a clue to what is going on in Dean's head. 

"Sure." Nodding assuredly, he ignores the look and walks stiffly to the garage, shoving the desire and the silent want to protest far away from himself. Cas needs the pills, end of story.

Least he can do, is be a good friend. He ignores the other issue and focuses on walking straight to the Impala. Ignores a lot of things actually.

Just needs to get himself under control a little, breath fresh air, it's no big deal. 

No big deal.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always comments and kudos are appreciated, and frankly are a great writing motivation. ;)
> 
> I'm not that reliable with regular updates, so no promises, although I will try for every two weeks.
> 
> If you're wondering where the scene from the summary is, well, it will actually happen around chapter three, I guess. I included it in the summary, because it kind of perfectly conveys where I'm going with this, which can be an incentive to read the story or stay away depending on the person.


End file.
